The Story of Ink
by Dancergirl1008
Summary: in 1894, after escaping from a refuge in New York, Isabelle gets stumbled upon by a certain boy with a crutch. He takes her to the Newsboy lodge house where Isabelle finds her new home and makes new friends. Years later, the Newsboy strike of 1899 begins, but for Isabelle's safety, she is left out from any press and newspaper. This is her story.
1. In Which Our Story Begins

**AN: So, this is my first newsies fanfic. I don't know how well it'll go or how often it'll be updated but I can guarantee it won't go unfinished. There may be times where I won't update for a few weeks but I'm not one to put up a story online without any intention of finishing it.**

* * *

Our story begins in the year 1893, with a girl and the untimely death of her parents.

Isabelle was sitting on the porch of her aunt and uncle's house, enjoying the breeze and sipping a glass of lemonade while drawing something with a paintbrush full of black paint. It was getting close to the end of summer, and Mother Nature decided to send out one last heat wave before fall came to town.

To say that her aunt and uncle were well made in the world would have been an understatement as they had enough money to support themselves along with more than Isabelle could have ever dreamed of spending in her lifetime.

Isabelle couldn't be happier spending the weekend here and away from the city.

But, as one always knows in a story like this, bad things must come. Otherwise, it wouldn't be much of a story, now would it?

Anyway, Isabelle sat on the porch of her aunt and uncle's house, sipping lemonade and enjoying the breeze. That is until she heard her aunt scream in horror.

Isabelle jumped up and ran to the source of the noise.

Finding her aunt in the kitchen with her uncle standing close by, Isabelle noticed a strange man there as well.

"This cannot be possible." Isabelle's uncle cried as he wrapped his arms around his wife's shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

"I'm afraid it is, sir and that the girl is now your responsibility."

With that said the strange man walked out of the room and out of the house.

No one dared say anything. The only noise that was made was from Isabelle's aunt's sniffing and hiccuping.

"Uncle?" Isabelle spoke at last. "What happened?"

Her uncle looked up in surprise, not knowing the girl was even there. Before he had a chance to answer, her aunt spoke up.

"You're parents are dead." She said bluntly with anger in her voice. She sounded to be on the verge of hysteria.

"Killed in a fire just on the edge of town." She continued. "And now, we are stuck taking care of you."

"Now, Joyce, don't be so harsh. The girl just lost her parents after all." Her uncle tried to intervene.

"I don't care if she lost her parents!" Screeched Joyce. "I will not be stuck taking care of my sister's child. I want her out of this house immediately. The only reason I agreed for her to stay the weekend was so that her mother and father could find a job and we wouldn't have to support them anymore."

Isabelle stared at her aunt in horror. How could this be the same woman that happily treated her just yesterday morning?

She fought back the tears that threaten to fall. She was not going to give her aunt the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Before Isabelle could react, her aunt had an iron grip on her wrist and was dragging her out towards the front door. Her uncle didn't even intervene, all he did was spare her a sorrowful look.

"Where are we going?" Isabelle asked quietly.

"I'm taking you to a refuge. Where poor often children like you belong." Her aunt spat in response.

Now, as most of you know, the refuge is a horrible place run by none other than Snyder the so-called "Spider." But, that's only one of the refugees in New York, in fact, there are four all together as one cannot expect a single refuge to hold that many children. Unfortunately, the one Isabelle was going to was the worst of them all. In that place, it's soak or be soaked.

Isabelle spent a year in that horrible place. The details as to what happened will be spared from this story. Let's just say that when she was finally able to escape a year later, it was not the same Isabelle whom first arrived that late summer's day.

She saw an opening, and she took it. Knowing that if she got caught, there would be punishment, but this was a risk she would have to make.

Like a whip, Isabelle ran out the door and onto the streets of New York, somewhere in the Brooklyn to be exact. She could hear shouts behind her as the guards noticed she had started to run.

She managed to slip through the gate before they closed it but so did one of the wardens.

Not daring to look behind her for fear she would end up tripping and getting caught, Isabelle ran through the streets in hopes of losing her captor.

She ran and hid for miles. Just when she fought she was safe, she would hear her chapter cry out and begin chasing her again.

She didn't know where she ended up. If she had to guess she was probably somewhere in the lower Manhattan area if her geography lessons did any good.

Isabelle spotted a crowd of people watching a boxing match. She slipped between people and out the other side. She continued to run down the street and turned to hide in a damp alleyway.

Quietly crouched down behind a stack of crates, she tried to catch her breath while waiting and praying she wouldn't be found. She knew she couldn't keep running forever.

She waited, and waited for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably in reality only five minutes.

She heard footsteps enter the ally. Isabelle held her breath in terror. She froze with anticipation. She tried watching through the crates to see who it was.

"Hello." Said a young male voice.

Isabelle nearly jumped ten feet in the air from fright.

"Oh 'm sorry I's didn't mean to scare you." The boy said frantically.

Isabelle looked up at him. He was a tall boy, yet then again, most people were tall to her as she had not yet grown past 5"3.

The boy had brown curly hair and a long nose with his ears sticking out from his hat. He had a bag across his chest with newspapers in it. Isabell guessed he was one of the newsies in this area.

She had seen a few of them during her time at the refuge when she glanced out the window.

The boy held out his hand to Isabelle. She took it and slowly stood up.

"I hope you don't mind, but I saw yous being chased by that man, and I wanted to make sure you're okay. 'M guessing you're from one of da refugees."

She slowly shook her head, unsure of the boy.

"What's ya name?" He asked softly for fear of frightening the girl even more.

"Is-Isabelle." Stuttered the small girl.

She was probably no older than ten, with long black hair and a wiry frame. She had dirt on her face and dress, which was just about too small for her as it barely covered her ankles.

"Isabelle, hu? That's a pretty name. 'M Andrew but everyone calls me Crutchie cause ah, well" He trailed off, motioning to the crutch that he was using to help him walk.

"Anyway, why don't ya come with me? I knows a place where no one's gonna finds ya. You'll be safe there."

Isabelle smiled softly. Crutchie held out his free hand for her to take and he began leading her out from the damp ally to the lodge house.

Isabelle was still unsure of the boy but she figured anywhere is better than going back to that horrible place and she knew very well she wouldn't be able to stay on the streets and survive.

* * *

 **Also, disclaimer, I own nothing but Isabelle and the other characters who aren't originally in Newsies, yada yada yada. I'm sure you all know the drill by now.**


	2. In Which Isabelle Makes A New Friend

Crutchie led Isabelle through the streets of lower Manhattan, occasionally selling newspapers along the way.

"If I's don't sell the ones I bought by the end ah da day, Mr. Weisel, we call him weasel, will makes me buy dem back full price." He explained.

Isabelle nodded. The two continued to walk down the street, Isabelle falling behind every so often to stop and look at things in shop window, as it had been a while since she had been out from the refuge. Crutchie nearly left her behind at one point, and Isabelle received a bit of a scolding from him about the importance of not getting lost. Though, he offered to buy her lunch afterward because he felt bad for talking to her sternly.

"Ya ever been to Jacoby's?" He asked, slowing his pace down until they were standing in front of a deli.

Isabelle gave him a strange look.

"No, I's guess not." Crutchie said shaking his head.

"Jacoby's is where me and da fellas go for lunch and otha stuff. Really good food if ya asks me. Wanna go here for lunch?"

Isabelle shook her head "yes" just before her stomach growled in complaint.

Crutchie chuckled a bit and pushed the door open, holding it so Isabelle could walk through.

"Afta yous, Miss." He said with a goofy grin.

Isabelle giggled and walked inside.

Immediately she was hit with the smell of baked bread, roasted turkey, and other delicious aromas.

Isabelle let out a small squeal of excitement. Crutchie walked up next to her and draped his arm around her shoulder. He began to lead her over to a corner where another boy was sitting down, eating a sandwich.

"Hiya Jack," Crutchie greeted.

The boy stopped and looked up from his food. He had brown hair that was pushed back from his square face. He wore a red bandana around his neck.

"Hey, Crutchie, who's ya friend?" Jack questioned.

He looked at Isabelle and flashed her a grin.

"This here is Isabelle," Crutchie began to explain. "I's saw her running from one o'da wardens and met up with her in an ally, want'n to make sure she was okay. Turns out she escaped from a refuge."

Jack gave Isabelle a look of sympathy.

"Well, it's nice ta meet ya, Isabelle. My name's Jack, but everyone calls me Cowboy."

He held out his hand to shake. Isabelle slowly took it, and Jack gently lifted up her hand and kissed her knuckles.

Isabelle blushed slightly and giggled.

"Hey, Isabelle, why don't ya sit with Jack while I's get us something ta eat?" Crutchie suggested. Isabelle nodded and quietly sat down across from Jack while Crutchie went off to find food.

"So, tell me about yaself." Jack said in attempt to start a conversation.

"Where were you before ya came ta Lower Manhattan?"

Isabelle looked down at her lap and fiddled with her thumbs.

"B-Brooklyn." She murmured.

"Brooklyn, eh? I know a guy from Brooklyn. His name's Spot Collins, ya ever heard of him?"

Isabelle shook her head "no."

"Ah, no matter. Anyway, Crutchie tells me ya's on da run from some warden, that true?" He asked, giving a look that told Isabelle he wasn't sure if she was telling the truth.

"Yes." She said, trying to speak up but it only came out as a whisper.

Jack was silent for a moment as if he was lost in thought.

"You don't talk much, do ya?" He finally said.

Isabelle shook her head.

"Is it cause ah what happened at da refuge?"

Isabelle nodded.

Jack nodded his head as well and said nothing else. Understanding that one: the girl didn't want to talk about it and two: Jacoby's probably wasn't the best place to talk about it. He would ask her again somewhere more private.

Just then, Crutchie came back with a tray carrying two sandwiches and two glasses of water.

"Here we are." He said cheerfully, sliding in, so he was sitting next to Jack. He handed Isabelle a sandwich and one of the glasses of water before getting his.

Isabelle looked at her sandwich hesitantly, afraid as if it might jump out and get her.

"Well, go on, eat." Crutchie instructed, motioning to the food. "Don't worry it's not poisoned or nothing."

She picked up the sandwich and took a bit out of it. She closed her eyes, trying to savor each flavor.

"Good, huh?" Crutchie asked with a smile on his face.

Isabelle nodded enthusiastically, taking another bit.

"So I's saw ya taking to Jack. Did he tell you how he's next in line for leader ah Manhattan?" Crutchie asked.

Jacks scoffed "Oh please, I have as much of a chance of bein the next leader ah Manhattan as Spot does becoming da King o' Brooklyn."

Isabelle let out a small giggle, keeping her head down.

"Say, Isabelle," Jack started. "Where's ya family?"

She froze. She lowered her head more until her hair covered her face.

"My par- My parents are d-dead." She stuttered.

Jack and Crutchie both let out an "Oh."

No one said anything. Isabelle continued to quietly eat her sandwich, as it was the first decent meal she's had in a year. The tension in the air was thick. Both boys knew what it was like to have dead parents. That's how they ended up working for the World, selling newspapers in the first place.

"Say, Isabelle?" Crutchie said, breaking the silence. "What if ya come lives with us? Ya could learn how to sell newspapers with me and Jack."

Isabelle's face lite up at Crutchie's suggestion. Jack, however, could see a few flaws in this plan.

"Hey, Crutchie, could I talk to ya a second," he looked over at Isabelle "alone."

The two boys quickly got up as Jack pushed crutches towards the door.

"Are ya out of ya mind?" Jack hissed "Did someone bust up ya brains or something? Because in case ya missed it, Isabelle is a goil, and we can't have no goil living at da newsboy loge house."

"Then we'll disguise her." Crutchie said simply.

"How? Have ya seen how much hair she got on her head? There's no way we can tuck that into a cap or whatever."

"Then we can cut it."

"Trust me Crutchie, no goil is gonna let us go around cuttin their hair."

"Well, what else can we do Jack? She can't stay on the streets like this. She'll be dead by da end of a da month, and she is certainly not going back to a refuge."

Jack thought for a minute.

Crutchie did have a good point. The poor girl wouldn't last very long, alone on the streets and there was no way he was going to let her go back to the refuge, especially the Brooklyn one.

"Alright, but if Kloppman finds out then she's gone, ya do realize that?"

Crutchie nodded. "I know, and I'm willing to take the blame. I just can't leave her, Jack. You didn't see her in that ally, she looked so terrified of everything around her."

Jack said nothing.

"So is that a yes? Will you help me?"

"Fine." Jack groaned. Crutchie grinned from ear to ear.

"Oh, thank ya, Jack."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. But I'm not the one who's gonna tell her we's gotta cut her hair."


	3. In Which Things Start To Look Up

"Are yous sure about dis, Crutchie?" Jack asked cautiously as he held the scissors up to Isabelle's hair.

The two boys had explained their plan to get Isabelle in the lodge house. The only way she would be able to fit in and not get noticed by Kloppman was to cut her hair so she would have to look like a boy. Isabelle reluctantly agreed.

The three were now standing around the corner from the local barber shop with a pair of scissors Jack had swiped from inside.

Now, I know that about every one-in-ten newsies were girls, however, there weren't any decent lodge houses for them in the Lower Manhattan area. The boys offered to drop Isabelle off at a Lodge house in Queens or the Bronx, but Isabelle firmly shook her head and told them she wanted to stay with the two boys.

"Yeah, Jack, I's sure. Besides, she said she wanted to stay with us." Crutchie replies to Jacks question.

In response, Isabelle shook her head in agreement with what Crutchie had just said.

"Ey' don't do dat, kid." Jack cried in alarm. "Yous want me to cut ya neck or somthin?"

Isabelle froze.

"That's better." Jack numbered. He took a deep breath and slowly cut the first section of hair.

"Well, der's no going back now. " Crutchie sighed.

Jack continued cutting Isabelle's hair until there was nothing left but a slightly uneven version of his haircut. Which then started to curl up as her hair was not as straight as his. In the end, her hair curled up to the tips of her ears.

"There we go, a brand new haircut. Done by yours truly." Jack said, proud of his work.

"It looks really good, Jack," Crutchie said in approval.

"Now, Crutch, take these back to da barbershop and say that you found dem on da street or somthin and I'll take Isabelle here to the Lodge House."

Crutchie nodded and took the scissors from Jack. He began hobbling down the street as Jack started to take Isabelle to the Lodge House.

"Well, Isabelle, since yous gonna be a boy, we's need to tink of a new name for ya. Since no boy would be walk'n around with a name like Isabelle."

Isabelle nodded in agreement.

"So usually, Newsies will have nicknames. They call me Cowboy cause I's gots dis hat, and I'm gonna be going out west someday." Jack continued to explain. "It's kinda obvious why we call Crutchie, well, Crutchie but anyway. We'd gotta come up with a nickname for you. So, what do ya like to do in ya spare time?"

Isabelle thought for a moment. She really liked to paint, but it had been a long time since she had been able to do it on paper. Usually, she'd grab the paintbrush she'd managed to grab before her aunt took her to the Refuge and paint herself with whatever paint or ink she could find.

"I like to paint." She told him simply

"Really? That's neat. What do you like to paint?" Jack asked.

Isabelle rolled up the sleeve of her dress to reveille a bunch of squiggles and designs in black ink on her arm.

"Well den," Jack said in slight shock. "Yous don't got no paper to draw on in da Refuge?"

Isabelle shook her head sadly.

"Alright, um." Jack thought for a moment.

"How bout we call yous Ink? Cause with all the drawings on ya arm, you look like some of dem guys who fight in da rink downtown. The ones who have tattoos all over der body, we's call dem Inkeds."

Isabelle shook her head in approval.

"Great, den it's settled. Ah, here we are." Jack said when he noticed the Lodge House.

"Welcome to the Lodge House of Lower Manhattan."

Isabelle looked up at the building. It was tall and had paint chipping off in several places. There was a sign above the door that said "Newsboy Lodge House" in black paint.

Jack walked inside and held the door open for Isabelle. She stepped inside and saw a desk type thing, with a study in the back. There were also a closet and a bathroom over to the side of the room. A staircase, down the hall, led to what Isabelle assumed was the second floor.

Jack motioned Isabelle to follow him, and he led her upstairs.

The two quietly went into where the boys slept and kept their clothes.

"We have a sort of hand-me-down system here. Once you outgrow your clothes, ya leave dem for another boy who might be able to use dem."Jack explained.

He began digging through a box at the end of the room until he found a pair of pants, a shirt and some suspenders that looked like they might fit Isabelle.

"Here ya go. There's a bathroom down the hall you can use to change but try to be quiet, we don't want Kloppmann to know yous is here just yet."

Isabelle nodded and followed Jacks directions to the bathroom.

All in all, the shirt fit well, the pants were a little big in the waist, but the suspenders held them up.

Isabelle walked out of the bathroom and looked in the closest mirror. With the new haircut and clothes, she really did look like a boy.

She turned to see Jack leaning up against the door.

"Ready?" He asked.

Isabelle nodded, and the two quietly walked downstairs.

They went back into the little office area. It reminded Isabelle of a place where you check in to a hotel.

"Hey, Kloppmann!" Jack yelled.

There was a bang, and then someone started grumbling. A door behind the desk opened and out came an old man wearing a bowler hat.

"Jack, I've told ya a million times, ya don't have ta yell."

Isabelle giggled quietly

"Anyway, what can I do for ya, Jack?" Kloppmann asked

"Dis here is Ink," Jack said pushing Isabelle forward. "And s-he would like to stay here and start selling newspapers."

"I see, I see," Kloppmann said under his breath. He then took out a big book and dropped it out on the desk, sending up a bit of dust in the process.

Coughing from the dust, Kloppmann opened the book and grabbed a pen.

"Now, does Ink have a name?"

Jack nodded. "His name is Isaac...O'Connell, yeah, Isaac O'Connell."

Kloppmann gave Jack a suspicious look but put the name in his book anyway.

"Alright, Isaac, or Ink as Jack said, welcome to the Newsboy Lodge House."

Isabelle smiled from ear to ear. Things were finally starting to look up for her.

 **AN: I'm trying to keep the Author's Notes down to a minimum so there won't be many in the story. However, please leave a review. I love getting them and I also love getting constructive criticism because they help me improve in my writing skills.**

 **Also, please excuse the choppy New York accent that some of the boys have. I'm still working on getting it right, so it may take some time haha.**


	4. In Which Ink Goes To Brooklyn

Two days later

Things were certainly not looking up from here.

"Ink?" Jack hissed. "Where's Ink? Has anyone seen em?"

The boys who were sitting on their beds pointed over to the window where Isabelle, now known as Ink, was sitting.

Jack rushed over to her.

"We needs to get you outta here. The wardens from Brooklyn are here, and they're looking for ya."

Her eyes widened in terror.

"What do we do?" She whispered.

"Don't worry," Jack assured her "I can up with a plan in case something like this happened. I know a guy who can take you in for a while. I overheard the guy say he'd have someone stay a few days and "help" Kloppmann keep an eye out for ya."

Ink gave Jack a look.

He rolled his eyes in return. "Just trust me on this okay? Now, grab ya stuff and let's go out the window."

Ink heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She quickly grabbed a shirt and a pair of pants and climbed out the window with Jack behind her.

* * *

"Ya ever been ta Brooklyn?" Jack asked.

Ink turned her head to stare at him.

Of course I've been to Brooklyn, she thought. She spent one horrible year here. It's not like she'd forget that anytime soon.

"Right, stupid question," Jack mumbled. "Anyway, where I'm taken ya is a lot better than da refuge. It's over by da docks and ya could go swimming every day in da summer."

Jack pretended to swim while he continued describing the water.

"You go there a lot?" Ink asked softly.

"Ah, yeah, I's gotta good friend down there that I think yous'll like. He's a big tall guy with black hair; dey calls him Duke cause he's always goin' round tellen everyone how his family's descended from some royal duke over in England or somthin."

Ink giggled as they continued walking down the street. She could see the Brooklyn bridge come into view and suddenly she started getting second thoughts.

"Are you sure this'll work?" She mumbled.

Jack stopped and turned to face her. He bent over so he could look her in the eye.

"I'm sure, Ink. Duke won't let nothin happen to ya once I tell him what's goin on. Plus, dem Brooklyn boys is big. They'd beat up any warden or Bull that tried ta take ya."

Ink glanced ahead still unsure.

"Ink, do ya trust me?" Jack asked.

She nodded.

"Then trust me when I say I'll do anything ta keep ya safe. Now come on."

Jack draped his arm over her small frame, and the two continued on towards the bridge.

Soon the two stoves at the docks. Ink could hear a bunch of boys yelling and goofing around, trying to throw each other into the water even though it was getting closer to fall each day.

Jack kept his arm around Ink more as protection than to confront her. In all honesty, he wasn't sure how things were going to go. He just hoped that Duke would be sympathetic enough to let Ink stay.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Jack Kelly." Said a voice from up high on the wooden crates that surrounded the dock.

The two looked up to see a boy who was about sixteen years old. He had black hair that was cut short, brown eyes and a stocky build.

"Hiya, Duke, how's things in Brooklyn?" Jack asked, trying not to sound nervous.

"Ah, you know, same old, same old. Carrin' da banner and all that stuff." Duke said with a chuckle.

He jumped down from the crates and landed in front of Jack and Ink with a thud.

"Now, I know Jack Kelley don't come ta Brooklyn just ta visit. So, what do yous want?"

Jack sighed. "Look, Duke, I's gots a problem with my friend here." Jack gently shoved Ink forward, who had begun to hide behind him.

"He's an escape from da refuge, and he needs ya lay low for a few days and stay outta Manhattan. I was hoping he could stay with ya here in Brooklyn."

Duke looked closely at Ink. "What's ya name kid?" He asked.

"Ink." She mumbled.

"Alright, Ink, I think I's gots a pace where's yous can stay for a while."

Ink looked up at Jack and smiled.

"But I's got one question for yous, Kelly." Duke continued.

"Fire away." Jack said with a quick nod.

"Why yous trying to hide a goil in the boy's lodgen house?"

Ink looked at Duke with panic rising in her throat.

"Ah, don't worry, It ain't that noticeable. I just know cause my sister looks just like yous cept her hair is longer."

Ink relaxed.

"She wanted to stay with Crutchie. We tried to get her ya go to da goil's house, but she's a stubborn thing." Jack laughed nervously.

Duke laughed "She'll fit right in, den." He then turned around.

"Hey, yo Spot!" He called.

A boy, who seemed to be around the same age as Ink came running through the crates. He had a newsie hat that was too big for him on his head, it kept falling down in his face with every step he took.

When he got closer, Ink could see that's he had light brown hair and bright blue eyes.

"What's up, Duke?" Spot asked.

"Dis here is Ink," Duke said clapping his hand on Ink's shoulder. "Long story short but she'll be stayin' with us a few days while a situation sorts itself out. Do me a favor and show her around."

Spot nodded "Sure thing, Duke."

Duke pushed Ink closer to Spot who, in turn, took off his hat and bowed to her.

"Oh and Spot, don't go tellen no one dat she's a goil, okay? Dat stays between us."

"Yes, sir," Spot said before taking Inks hand and began showing her around.

"So, Jack, wanna tell me exactly what yous gotten yourself into?" Duke questioned.

Jack sighed. "I'll be honest with ya, Duke. I'm not entirely sure myself. All I know is that she escaped from da Brooklyn refuge and Crutchie found her somewhere in Lower Manhattan."

Duke nodded. "Well, she'll be in good hands here."

"That's what I'm hopen for," Jack said.

"So, what brings ya ta Brooklyn?" Spot asked while he was showing Ink around the dock.

"I'm hiding from someone." She answered simply, trying to say something that wasn't a whisper.

"Wardens are after yous, aren't they?" Spot guessed.

"How'd ya know?"

"You've got this look about ya." He said with a shrug of his shoulders. Ink tilted her head in confusion.

"Sometimes when people come out o' da refuge, they end up with a sad look on their face dat never really goes way." Spot explained.

Ink nodded.

The two continued to walk in silence, except for Spot occasionally pointing out something of importance for Ink to remember. Soon they ended up back by the water. Spot sat down and motioned for Ink to sit by him.

"I've been there too," Spot said softly once Ink was sitting. They had their feet hanging off the edge of the dock, just barely touching the water.

Ink looked at Spot, surprised that such a nice boy would be in a place as horrible as that.

"I got caught trying ya steal some bread for another boy." Spot started to explain. "Duke tried ta take da blame, but I wouldn't have it. I'm da one who got caught, I should do da time."

Ink gave Spot a sad smile.

The two sat in silence until Spot spoke again.

"You don't talk much, so ya?" He asked with a short laugh.

Ink giggled and shook her head.

"That's okay, I like to listen to myself talk anyway."

Ink shoved him softly to the side, still laughing.

"Come on, we better get back ta Duke before he starts ta worry."

Spot hopped up and held out his hand for Ink.

She grabbed hold, and he pulled her up before the two started running off.


	5. In Which Ink and Spot Sell Papes

The next day, Duke had paired Ink with Spot so she could sell papers.

Jack explained to Duke before he left that Ink had a hard time yelling over others and does much better with a partner.

Spot and Ink we're standing by the Brooklyn Bridge, which was Spot's favorite selling place.

Ink was holding the newspaper high above her head while Spot was "hawking" it

"Extre, Extre, five found dead on a railroad track! All signs point to murder! He yelled over the busy street.

"Where does it say that?" Ink questioned

"Page ten," Spot replied before continuing.

Ink flipped to page ten and found what Spot was talking about

"Five seagulls found dead by the local train track." She read aloud. "Spot this isn't what you said."

Spot sighed. "Ain't no one told ya? Headlines don't sell papes, Newsies do. So if ya wanna sell papes, ya gotta get creative sometimes."

"But that's lying!" Ink cried.

"No it ain't, it's just improving the truth."

Ink rolled her eyes "You're impossible, Spot Collins."

After a while, the two managed to sell a little over half their papers. They then decided to go find lunch.

Grabbing lunch from a street bender over by Coney Island, Spot and Ink were now walking around aimlessly, chatting about random things.

"Hey, Ink. If ya were da King o da woild. What would be the first thing ya buy?" Spot asked.

Ink stopped and looked at him with a questioning stare.

"If I was king a da world, what would be da first ting I buy?" She repeated.

Spot nodded.

"Well, gee. I duh know." She answered as they started walking again. "What would be da first ting you buy?"

Spot thought for a moment.

"A porcelain tub filled to da brim with boilin water."

Ink giggled. "Why?"

"Why? Well, before I came ta New York, me mum had a porcelain tub and every Sunday night, she would make me take a bath. Used ya hate it then, but now I kinda miss it, ya know?

Ink nodded. "Yeah, being a newsie is great and all but it's hard living without a mum and dad."

"What happened to ya parents?" Spot asked softly.

"If you don't mind me asking." He added quickly.

"In a fire." She mumbled, "They were killed in a fire, and my aunt sent me to the refuge about two hours later."

Spot stared at her in shock. "Ink, I'm so sorry."

She shrugged "It is what it is. No use in cry'n over it now."

The two continued walking in silence, neither bothering to say anything.

"My mum died from a fever or sometin back when I was young," Spot said once they were nearing the Brooklyn Bridge.

"My dad left when I was born, so it was always just me nd' her."

Neither of them said anything to each other the rest of the day except for Spot telling to try and sell newspapers. When they sold their last one, probably around 8:00 at night, the two headed back to the lodging house.

* * *

By the time they had reached the lodging house, Ink could barely keep her eyes open.

"Ya tired there, Ink? One of the newsies asked on her way up the stairs.

Ink grumbled an inaudible response and continued on.

Ink couldn't sleep that night. The bed was too lumpy, the pillow was too hard, and it was way too loud for her liking.

Back in the lower side of Manhattan, things were always quiet by ten o'clock at night. In Brooklyn, it seemed that something was always making noise, whether it be the ocean lapping against the shore or some drunk out yelling in the streets. Ink tossed and turned, but she was unable to get comfortable enough to sleep.

Finally having enough, Ink got up and headed downstairs. She was told time and time again by Jack not to go walking around outside alone at night. So she found a loophole.

Ink opened the front door and put her shoe in the doorway so it wouldn't accidentally shut and lock her out.

Ink sighed and looked up at the sky.

"Dear mum," she started.

"How are ya?" She waited as if someone answered her question

"I'm okay." She replied. "Not much really happened today. I did the same thing I did yesterday. I sold papes with Spot then went out for lunch. But you probably knew that."

Behind Ink, the door opens ever so slightly so that a pair of blue eyes could see what was going on.

"I miss ya and dad." She concluded. "I hope it's really nice up in heaven. I hope ya get to see gram and grandpa too. I'll talk to ya tomorrow." Ink smiled sadly.

She brushed her hair back out from her face and then spoke again.

"Are ya going to stand there and watch me all night? Or are ya gonna come out?" She questioned.

Spot opened the door to step out and sit down next to Ink.

"Sorry." He mumbled, "I just wanted to make sure yous was alright."

Ink sighed "It's okay, I don't mind the company."

"Ya talkin to ya mum I take it?"

"Yeah, I talk to her when I can't sleep. It helps calm me down."

"Do ya think dey can hear us, all da way up der?" Spot asked, looking up at the night sky.

"Oh, defiantly." Ink said with a smile.

Spot nodded.

They sat in silence, except for the ocean waves coming up onto the beach.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Spot asked.

"What I would get when I become king of da woild." Ink answered back. "I'm still not sure what I would get because there's so many options. I could have a new house or a teddy bear or even an actual barbershop haircut."

Spot scoffed. "A teddy bear? Why would ya want a teddy bear?"

"Why not." Ink shrugged. "It's just an idea and much better den a tub filled with boiln water."

"Oi! I'll have you know that there is nothing betta in life den a nice hot bath."

"Says the guy who never takes one." Ink shot back.

"I am offended, Ink. I shower every Wednesday, thank ya very much."

* * *

 **AN: Sorry about not updating last week. Things got kinda busy and I didn't have time to write anything.**

 **Also, did anyone notice the small musical reference in this chapter? :)**


	6. In Which Ink's Secret Is Discovered

The days passed, and soon it was safe for Ink to return to Lower Manhattan. She was sad to leave her new friends that she made over in Brooklyn, especially Spot, but Jack reassured her she'd see them again.

Though there was another problem to face.

How was Ink going to get around the lodging house without Kloppmann realizing she was a girl? Jack had lost sleep over this question. He thought about telling Kloppmann straight out and explaining the situation, but his mind could only come up with severe consequences. Ones including Ink ending up back in the refuge. In the end, he thought it best to just let the secret be. Although he did make it known to the other newsies that Ink was a girl and she was to be protected at all costs.

By no means would the Delaney Brothers lay a hand on her if Jack had anything to do with it.

Months and years passed, and Ink has managed to keep her secret, but she didn't question her luck.

However, one fateful rainy day, luck was not on her side.

In the year 1896, after everyone had finished selling papers, rain was pouring down, but no one wanted to go inside as it was a relief from the hot summer days that had come to pass. A group had decided to go over to Brooklyn and see if the newsies over there wanted to play a game of capture the flag.

Now, the Brooklyn Newsies were never one to turn down a challenge, especially Spot Collins who had risen through the ranks and was now second in command.

Duke had left two years ago to work in a factory and got married to a beautiful girl named Clare. They now had a baby girl on the way.

Anyway, as I was saying, Ink and a few other newsies, including Jack and a new boy named Racetrack, were headed to Brooklyn to challenge the newsies to a game of capture the flag.

After a little persuasion, a group of 7, including Ink's longtime friend Spot, agreed to play for the honor of Brooklyn. Losing team had to buy lunch for any member of the opposing team for a week.

The teams split up. Jack took command, placing Ink on runner duty as she was one of the fastest from their group. Her job was to scout for the flag without getting captured and if possible bring the flag back to their territory.

There was a clanging noise off in the distance, signaling the start of the game. The Manhattan group took their positions and Ink headed for enemy territory.

Ink snuck behind the crates that scattered the docks, which made perfect hiding spots. This made her think of the time she was running away from the warden, but she tried to stay focused and put that image out of her mind. She was getting close to the Brooklyn's camp and couldn't afford to get caught.

She heard footsteps coming closer. With nowhere to go, Ink had no choice but to climb the crates to the top. She hoped that no one would see her while she was up there. Trying to stay as flat as possible, she inched her way closer to the noise coming from the camp.

"Spot, I can't believe ya thought ta put da flag up der." One of the newsies praised Spot Collins.

"Aw quite ya yapp'n. Anyone coulda thought of it." Spot replied.

Ink moved closer to get a better look as to what was going on.

"Yeah, but, how would Manhattan ever think ta look on top o' da crates?" The unknown newsie shot back.

Eureka! Thought Ink.

She quietly pushed herself up and looked around at the tops of the crates.

There, just behind the "Throne of Brooklyn" as she heard Spot call it many times, was the flag being held down by a rock to keep it from blowing away. All Ink had to do was scoot closer and grab it. She would win the game for Manhattan and rub it in Spot's nose for weeks.

But she had to move fast. Who knew what was happening at home base.

Blowing the bangs out of her face, Ink continued forward.

The rain was pouring down, and Ink couldn't tell if it was sweat or water dripping down her forehead. She was almost there, just a few more inches. Stretching her fingers, she managed to grab hold of the flag. She pulled it out from underneath the rock and slowly stood up.

This would be a perfect time to make herself know. Besides Ink wanted to see Spots face when he saw that she had the flag.

Once she was standing up, she saw four newsies praising Spot on his "perfect" hiding spot.

Ink clears her throat to get their attention. With a hand on her hip and the other one waving the flag in the air, she broke out into a huge grin. Spot's shocked face was priceless, Ink had to hold herself back from laughing.

Ink was halfway down the second crate before she heard Spot yell for them to go after her.

She felt something sharp hit her in the back of the leg and looked back to see the boys had their slingshots out and aimed at her. Ink urged her legs to go faster. Thankfully the boys were using some kind of softer ammo instead of marbles.

Ink had almost made it when she saw a gap in the crates. She was going to have to jump if she wanted to make it across to her team's territory.

"Jack!" She yelled, trying to get his attention.

The gap was getting closer. Before Ink could jump, her foot slipped and she fell down landing painfully on her side.

She cried out in pain as she rolled onto her back.

"Nobody touch her!" Spot screamed as he ran to her.

He knelt by her began scanning for any trace of blood.

"Are yous alright?" He asked, masking his panic.

"Whaddaya think?" She groaned.

"We have ta get her ta Kloppmann." Jack said urgently "She may have broken sometin from da fall."

"That's ta far away," Spot argued, standing up to face Jack, who was a good couple of inches taller than Spot.

"What other choice do we have? Everyone knows ta Brooklyn lodge master has no first aid experience whatsoever."

"Fine," Spot grumbled.

The two boys helped Ink up, and she leaned on Spot for support, still disoriented from the fall. The Lower Manhattan Newsies, plus Spot, began their walk back home.

* * *

Soon the group made it back to the Lodge house and went inside.

"Kloppmann?" Jack yelled. "We need ya, there's been 'n accident."

There was some shuffling from the back room, and the old man came out.

"Oh dear." He said once he saw Ink leaning heavily on Spot, obviously in pain.

"Bring em to the back." He said before turning around and walking back into his office.

Ink and Spot slowly made their way to the back room, and Kloppmann told Spot to help Ink up on the table he just cleared off.

He then motioned for Spot to leave.

"So tell me, Ink, what happened? Kloppmann asked calmly while wiping his hands off on a piece of cloth.

"We were playing capture da flag over in Brooklyn. I was running with da flag on top o' da crates, and me foot slipped, and I fell. I landed on me side and Jack tinks I may have broken sometin'." Ink answered sheepishly.

Kloppmann clicked his tongue. "Well then, let's have a look see." He motioned to her upper body.

Reluctantly, Ink lifted her shirt up. Thankfully she started wrapping a cloth around her chest to help keep her boy disguise.

Kloppmann hummed when he saw the cloth but made no comment. He checked Ink for any kind of broken ribs or bruises.

"Well, you came off extremely luck, young lady, with just a bit of bruising. But what I would like to know is why a girl is staying at a logeboy housing facility?"

Ink began to explain her whole story, from the time her parents died up to when Crutchie found her. She could have sworn she saw Kloppmann smirk when she told him about Jack cutting her hair.

When she finished, Kloppmann smiled and nodded.

In the long run, he agreed to let Ink continue staying at the lodge house, but she had to abide a few rules.

No being alone with one boy in the house at any time and she must be up and ready to go before them. Other than that, she was free to stay as long as she wished.

The two went outside to see all the other boys who were all waiting anxiously for her.

"She'll be fine." Kloppmann said "Just a bit of bruising." He then turned to her "Young lady, do be more careful in the future."

The boys stared at Kloppmann in shock as he walked off.

Jack stepped forward. "He knows?"

Ink smiled "Relax, cowboy, he's letting me stay. I's just gotta follow a few rules."

The lodge house erupted into cheers as Jack pulled her into a bear hug.

"Ow! Jack dat hurts." Ink cried. He quickly let go and took a step back, looking sheepishly at the ground. Ink laughed and looked over to see Spot was still there. He winked at her before pushing his way through the crowd of Manhattan newsies and headed back to Brooklyn.

Life was finally good for Ink. Although the future had quite a challenge in store for her.

* * *

 **So there you go, a long one for the holiday season. Happy Easter for those of you who celebrate it and Happy Sunday for those of you who** **don't.**


	7. In Which Ink's Day Starts

1899

Ink sat on her bed, resting up against the wall reading one of the books Kloppmann gave her. The cover was missing so she didn't know what it was called, but it intrigued her nonetheless.

She just finished her current chapter when Kloppmann came up the staircase, ready to wake up the boys. When he saw her, she smiled cheerfully and waved.

Kloppmann gave her a short wave back and went to work.

"Boots!" He yelled startling the small boy.

Ink watched with amusement as Kloppmann continued waking the boys up.

Ink learned from past mistakes that it's better to stay in her bed when the boys start moving around, rushing to get ready. There's been more than one time where she's been trampled by an oblivious boy (Mush) trying to get dressed.

Over to her left, she heard some commotion between Racetrack and another newsie.

"That's my cigar." Race cried.

"You'll steal another." The other newsie, Snipeshooter, Ink remembered, replied.

Race was about to lunge at the boy but Kid Blink, the only newsie Ink has seen who could rock and eyepatch.

"Hey, bummers we got work ta do."

Kid Blink walked off, thinking the matter had been settled, but Specs wanted a word.

"Since when do ya become me mother?"

"Aw, stop ya bawlin." Crutchie interrupted.

"WHO ASKED YOU?" Ink and a few other newsies cried in protest.

The boys continued their daily routine of trying to get dressed and out the door in under twenty minutes. So far, they have been successful. But there will be times when a small fight breaks out that Jack would have to intervene to keep them on track. Most of them had learned that Jack was by no means a morning person. However, Mush always found pleasure in bothering him.

"So, how'd ya sleep, Jack?" He asked, patting him on the shoulder in a greeting.

"On me back, Mush," Jack grumbled.

For reasons Ink could never figure out, Mush had one of the stranges senses of humor she'd ever seen. Mush laughed as if Jack told the funniest joke in the world. Granted, Ink did chuckle from it, but she didn't find it that funny.

"Ya hear that, fellas? I asked Jack how he slept and he said, 'On me back, Mush.'"

Ink rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest with a huff. There was one thing in life that she was absolutely sure of and it was that she would never understand boys.

About this time is when things started to get crazy. The boys had now woken up enough to make full and complete sentences and they always messed with each other when getting ready. Ink stood up and weaved her way around the boys to the stairs where she went down and outside. She wanted a few more minutes of quiet before they all came running down the stairs like a herd of elephants.

"Good morning, Kloppmann." Ink greeted the old man before she went outside.

He gave a quick smile and waved back before he went back to doing whatever it was he was doing.

Ink stepped outside and was hit with the cool morning air. She took a deep breath and sighed. Though it was New York and there were many factories in the area, she always found that there was a hint of clean smelling air just before everything started up for the day. That was the one thing she hated about the city, the air always seemed dirty from all the smoke that was in the air. If she could, she would go out to Brooklyn because the smell from the water masked most of the smoke. She hadn't been to Brooklyn in a while because of how busy things had been. Now that she was older, she was working on her own, which left little time for traveling and visiting.

Sure, she saw her friends every once in awhile, but there was never much time for catching up.

Ink grumbled as she heard the "herd of elephants" come down the stairs. At least she got a few more minutes of quiet, though she was thankful they came down when they did because she was getting hungry. A roll of bread and a cup of coffee sounded really good at the moment.

"It took ya long enough." She cried when she saw Jack and Crutchie come down the stairs. "I's thought I's was gonna starve before you came down."

"Aw, quit ya whinin, will ya?" Jack said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "We'll get food soon enough."

Ink rolled her eyes and playfully shoved Jack with her shoulder. He shoved back, trying to hide a smile.

"So, how'd ya sleep, Ink?" Crutchie asked

"Oh, I slept fine. Unlike JAck who seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed."

Crutchie and Ink laughed as they continued walking.

Soon they boys started to become impatient and started running all over the place. It's a wonder they haven't disrupted traffic or caused a stagecoach to crash. They were jumping off of boxes, swinging themselves around street lamps and having "sword" fights with their sticks that some of them used.

Finally, Ink spotted the nuns who gave out bread and coffee every morning. They always sang a little song before they handed out the food and drink.

Ink always found comfort in it. Every day, she heard them sing about a man named Jesus who loved her no matter what she did. The boys calmed down and walked towards them. Ink could hear a few comments from them as they grabbed what was given to them.

"Just give me half a cup."

"Somthin' to wake me up."

"I gotta find an angle."

There was also a lady there, looking for her son. She would come every so often trying to find him. Ink felt bad for her because she always seemed distraught and worried sick. She would ask Jesus to help the lady sometimes.

They had finished and gone on their way to the gate to get their papers for the day.

* * *

 **Yay! finally gotten to the movie plot. Also, sorry for the short chapter but I had an essay due this week that I had to work on. I'm hoping that next weeks will be the normal length.**


	8. In Which Ink Meets The New Newsies

"So, didja miss me, Weasel? Hu, did ya miss me?" Jack taunted Mr. Wisel or as all the newsies like to call him Mr. Weasel.

"I told ya a million times, the name's Wisel. Mr. Wisel to you."

The boys in line snickered but quickly put on a straight face when the Delancey Brothers glared at them.

"Hundred papes for the wise guy. Next!" 

The line continued moving as the newsies received their papers for the day. Ink couldn't help notice that there were two new faces in the crowd. One was an older boy, about Jack's age maybe younger and the other was a young boy who seemed no older than nine or ten.

"Hey, Mush. Who's da new guys?" Ink whispered to the boy in front of her.

"I duhknow. Is never seen dem before." Mush replied with a shrug.

Ink continued to watch the older boy to make sure he wasn't a bird from Brooklyn or anything. The current leader, whoever it was, as Ink didn't keep track anymore, kept sending birds over to Lower Manhattan to keep an eye on things. Ink got the feeling that the new King Of Brooklyn was somewhat paranoid.

"Twenty papers please." The older boy said to Weasel.

"Well, he's not from Brooklyn with that accent." Ink mussed to herself.

Ink was now next in line. "I'll take da usual," she said distractedly, still trying to figure out where the new guy was from.

"Fifty papes for Ink!" Mr. Weasle called.

Ink grabbed the newspapers and began to walk off.

"Hey," Weasel called.

Ink quickly turned around.

"Where's my money? Are ya trying to steal from me or somethin?"

Ink looked at Weasle with panic. "No! I's just distracted is all. I'm sorry."

"Excuses, excuses. Come on, let's see the money."

She quickly dug into her pocket for the coins and put them into the box that held all the money. She was about to walk off when Weasle grabbed her wrist.

"If I catch yas trying to steal again, it'll be off to da refuge with ya."

Kid Blink, who happened to be next in line and witness to this episode quickly stepped in to defend Ink.

"So ya accusing him o' lying too? He made an honest mistake n' said he was sorry. Now, lettem go."

The Delancey Brothers were about to leap through the window and grab the two of them when the new kid interrupted.

"Excuse me?"

"Hey, ya got your twenty papers. Now, beat it." Weasel retorted.

"I paid for twenty, but you gave me nineteen." The new kid argued back.

"Are you accusing me of lying kid?"

"No. I just want what I paid for."

"He said beat it." Morris Delancey growled.

Now Jack who had grabbed the new kids papers and started counting them and recounted them to make sure, found that there were indeed only nineteen papers in the stack.

"No, it's nineteen, but don't worry about it. It's an honest mistake. I mean Morris here can't count ta twenty with his shoes on.

Ink laughed, and Morris lunged at Jack but was held back by his brother.

"Hey Race, will ya spot me two bits? Another fifty for my friend." Jack said as he caught the coins Race tossed to him.

"I don't want another fifty." The new boy grumbled

"Sure ya do." Ink told him with a curious look. "Every newsie wants more papes."

"I don't." The new kid insisted "I don't want your papes. I don't take charity from anyone. I don't know you. I don't care to." He gave Jack the papers back "Here are your papers."

"Cowboy." Said a small voice.

Ink looked down to see the young boy who came with the new kid. "They call him Cowboy."

"Yeah, I'm called that and a lot of other things," Jack replied nonchalantly "Including Jack Kelly, which is what me mudder called me. What do they call you kid?"

"Les and this is my brother David. He's older."

"Really?" Ink muttered under her breath sarcastically, which earned a shove in her side from one of the boys.

"Be nice." Kid Blinked muttered in her ear.

Ink gave him a sweet smile and rolled her eyes, trying to hold back a laugh.

She found this David guy to be a real stick in the mud. He's never slept a night on the streets, she could tell that much.

"Wait. Who said anything about being partners?" David said, interrupting her thoughts.

"Well, ya owe me 2 bits, right? Well, I'll consider that an investment.

We sell together, we split 70-30, plus yous get the benefit of observing me, no charge."

All the newsie around them mumbled their agreement and how it was a "good deal."

David gave a short laugh, and Jack then mocked him.

"You're getting the chance of a lifetime here, Davey," Crutchie said while putting his hand on David's shoulder. "Ya learn from Jack, you learn from the best."

Again, as if it were rehearsed, all the newsies mumbled in agreement.

"Well, if he's the best, then how come he needs me?" David said smugly with a smirk.

"Listen, I's don't need you, pal, but I ain't got a cute little brudder like Les here to front for me. With this kid's puss and my God-given talent, we could move a thousand papes a week. So what do you say, Les? You wanna sell papes with me?"

Les's eye light up and he grinned "Yeah!"

Ink laughed at the little boy's enthusiasm.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ink thought she saw a flash of red. Being as curious as she was, she weaved her way through the crowd of boys with her papers slung on her shoulder. 

Just outside the gates was a certain boy from Brooklyn.

"Spot Collins," Ink said with a smile. "Long time no see. What brings ya to da Lower Manhattan area?"

"Eh, not much." He replied with a shrug "Just wanted ta see me favorite, occasional selling partner."

"Spot, I'm ya only selling partner because I'm the only one who has da patience of putting up with ya."

"Alright, ya gots me there. But I still wanted ya see ya since it's been a while."

"It's been a week." Ink said rolling her eyes.

"Exactly. So how's about you and me go sell some papers and catch up a bit?"

Ink looked back to see the newsies pouring out of the gates.

"Baby born with three heads!" Specs yelled over the noise of the other boys.

"Sure, why not. I could use a break from dese guys."

Spot draped his arm around Ink's shoulder, and the two walked off to find a good selling spot.

* * *

 **Gah! I know I'm late with this chapter and I'm sorry. But at the moment, my life is somewhat hectic. I think it would be best if I start updating once every two weeks instead of every week. That way, I'm not stressing about updating so much.**


	9. In Which Ink and Spot Sell Papes 2

Ink and Spot walked around the streets of New York, (mainly staying close to the lower Manhattan area.) They had fallen back into old habits of Spot yelling the headlines and Ink holding up the paper, waving it around.

"How come ya don't want me coming ta visit ya over in Brooklyn?" Ink questioned while the two were resting up against a tree in a park.

Spot shrugged and sighed through his nose. "Eh, things are kinda messy over there's. No place for a lady."

Ink scoffed "We both know I am da furthest thing from a lady. With their proper speech and long dresses that have weird sleeves."

"True. But yous know what I mean."

"Is there something you don't want me finding out Spot?" Ink questioned.

Spot paled slightly.

"No. why would you think that?"

"Because you've started to become… cryptic." Kloppman had started giving Ink books to help widen her vocabulary. "When I ask about Brooklyn and da other fellows over der."

The wind blew through the park. Ink had to grab ahold of her hat to keep it blowing away. A few blossoms from a nearby tree had gotten caught in the wind and on petal landed on Spot's nose.

Ink chuckled as Spot furiously swatted at his nose in an attempt to remove the pink flower petal. Spot glared at Ink for laughing at him and she stuck out her tongue in return.

"You're a piece of work, ya know that Ink?"

She sighed "Yep, but you love me anyway."

Unbeknownst to Ink, Spot's cheeks turned a slight shade of red. He turned his head and mumbled something unintelligible.

The two stood there in silence for a few moments until a newsie ran up frantically towards Ink.

"What's da matter, Boots?" Ink asked with slight concern.

"It's Snider. I saw him around da corner as he was chasing Cowboy and the two new guys."

Ink tried to hide her concern. "Now Boots, Cowboy can handle his own and two others. You know that. So, why don't you run along and find some lunch?"

Boots looked down and shuffled his feet. "I would, but-ah…" He trailed off.

"What's tha matter, Boots?" Spot asked wrapping his arm around the small boy. "Surly yous got money for lunch?"

Boots shook his head slightly.

"Well, tell ya what. How about I buy yous and Ink lunch? You can pay me back by finding me some nice shooters."

Boots looked up at Spot in surprise. "Really?"

"Sure, why not?" The two started walking off towards the nearest restaurant and Ink trailed closely behind, listening to them discuss the terms of their deal.

Along the way, Ink also tried selling some of the papers she and Spot had left.

This led Spot to notice how much she had actually changed over the past few years. Sure, she was still the shy girl deep down, but Ink had gotten better at hawking headlines and actually yelling. Spot also noticed how her eyes gleamed with mischief whenever they played games against each other. There was something about her that made Spot smile involuntarily whenever he thought of her.

He found it annoying.

Soon the three entered a small bakery and ordered enough to get them by until dinnertime. Though, Boots used his puppy dog eyes (something Ink and Jack had been teaching him to do) to get Spot to buy him a cookie. Ink laughed quietly while Spot succumbed to the cuteness.

While Boots munched away on his treat, Ink and Spot talked about potential selling spots to get rid of the last of their papers. So far, they had come up with Little Italy, even though Ink always found that area to be sketchy but Spot insisted you could sell a hundred papes in an hour. You just had to know where to go. They also came up with selling by Medda Larkson, the Swedish Songbird as Ink called her.

Thankfully, Ink convinced Spot to sell over by Medda's.

After the three finished lunch, they said goodbye to Boots. After, of course, Ink made him promise to go straight towards the lodge house or find another newsie to sell with since Snider was out and about. The last thing Ink needed to worry about was breaking a newsie out of the refuge again.

* * *

"That was the last one," Spot said triumphantly.

"Finally, I thought we'd be out here all day trying to sell all dem papes."

They were standing outside of Medda's place and the sun was long gone, the yellow lights from the buildings were casting a yellow glow over everything. There was a click and a hum as the lights above the two turned on. Medda was going to start her night show soon and Ink did not want to be there when all the men started going inside. Crowds made her uneasy.

"You gonna head back to da lodge house now?" Spot asked with a slight tilt of his head.

"Probably." She replied, stifling a yawn.

"I'll walk ya over. Not because I don't think you can make it on ya own, but because I feel like yous about ta fall asleep any second."

"Am not." She said with another yawn.

Spot laughed. "Sure, Ink, sure."

Ink and Spot walked back to the Lower Manhattan loge house. One could barely see the stars in the sky from all the lights shining in the town. Ink was somewhat leaning against Spot as they walked. Not that he minded, however, he thought it was cute and-

Wait… what was he thinking? No, it most certainly was not cute. Ink was his friend and just his friend. He should not be thinking like that. He was the King of Brooklyn he couldn't afford to be thinking like that.

Spot shook his head and scrunched up his face. Best think of the matter later.

Soon the two arrived at the lodge house.

"Yous gonna be alright here? None o' da fellers are giving ya a hard time are dey?"

Ink smiled softly "Nah, everything's fine. Besides, Jack can handle any annoying newsie that's bothering me."

"Good."

Jack and Racetrack walked up the steps. They were talking about horses and tips. Ink never understood why Racetrack was interested in horse races and the betting but whatever floats your boat.

"I'll see you late?" Spot asked.

"Definitely. I look forward to it."

Spot smiled "Goodnight Ink."

"Any chance we could meet in Brooklyn tomorrow?"

"Goodnight Ink." He repeated as he walked away, leaving Ink laughing outside the lodge house.

* * *

 **I know, I know, I've been MIA on hiatus or whatever and I'm sorry. Things got a little crazy with my life but, dance is over for the year and I will be able to update regularly** **again.**

 **Also, thank you to those who have left review. I always smile when I read them and it means a lot to me that you write them.**

 **Peace, love and chocolate.**


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